Pardon the interuption to my Twilight Zone sequel, but it's time to be blunt. As Tim O'Brien would say, it's time to heat up the truth and make it burn.
And believe me the truth does burn.
My grandma is not the only one with secrets and lies.
I totally lied when I said there's something ungodly about St. George. I lub St. George and it didn't singe my eye lashes off either, although Funny Farmer was right when she said it should have because anyone who uses their free agency to vacation in St. George in July deserves to have their eye lashes singed off.
I also lied about being duct taped to my in-laws at Island Park. We DID drive here together in a caravan and we DID eat together at Chuck-A-Rama and we ARE staying together in the same cabin, but there is no duct tape involved.
I have my boundaries.
I also have my secrets.
My latest secret is that I'm sad. I've been sad for weeks now actually--ever since I was at the Statue of Liberty where my hub received a phone call from BYU Provo asking him if he wanted to transfer.
Of course we don't want to transfer!!! I screamed into the phone before my hub smacked me in the head.
But of course we want to tranfer. Our whole family is waiting for us with open arms (and rolls and rolls of duct tape).
So why does my stone cold heart feel so heavy I can barely lug it around?
I can hardly bring myself to say the words.
Deep breaths . . . Inhale . . . Exhale.
There I said it.
And now I'm bawling my brains out.
I NEED A HUG!
(btw, if you want to clear a room start bawling your brains out at a family reunion.)
I knew this time would come. But I never thought this time would come. You get me?
We have been Hawaiians for 18 years.
Even though Hawaii had committment issues and never got down on one knee to offer us a happily-ever-after I feeeeeeeeel like I'm getting divorced.
No, I feel more like I'm leaving my super hot surfer dude boyfriend to run off with another state. An older, colder, more practical state. A state with more beehives in it's bonnet.
I'm running off with the state of Utah.
I'm putting down roots.
Which means I'm officially . . .
. . . a grown up.
What if they don't like dummies in Utah? What if they whisper behind my back? What if they judge me?
What if I get caught in a snow drift and no one notices I'm gone until Spring?
Will I have to get breast implants to fit in? Will I have to keep the sabbath day holy? Will I have to pretend to like country music?
I guess I should look on the bright side. I can finally pick up that porn and prozac addiction I've been putting off.
Will you guys still read me when I'm married to Utah and addicted to porn and prozac? Or were you just using me to get to my super hot surfer dude boyfriend?
At least I will finally be around people who can tell me exactly what I should and shouldn't do. And after I learn it all I can tell you guys exactly what you should and shouldn't do too.
I'm here to serve.
I know I will learn to lub my new hub and we will live happily ever after til death do us part to infinity and beyond.
But ftr, my stone cold heart will always belong to my super hot surfer dude boyfriend.
Does anyone have a tissue?